Saturday, I woke up to a dry street, so I thought I’d go for a short hike along the Pacific Way Trail during the lull in rain showers; my first choice for shoes was soft-soled tennis shoes. Before I walked out the door, I exchanged those for my heavier hiking shoes in case I decided to push the envelope and walk the entire 4-mile hike instead of the shorter walk.
I had no idea just how far I would end up going š
Before leaving town, I called my BIL Kerry, and asked how the weather was topside (aka weather report) – and of course, I asked how Bobby (his red Lab, named after Bob) was doing. Kerry lives on the mountain, and I trust his weather reports š
I had to distance myself from the constant non-stop turmoil of live unfolding: my personal life is doing well, but my friends are dealing with some pretty heavy stuff lately … and I’m sick of hearing the radio talking heads churning out {news} designed to confuse and depress the masses.
So, Saturday, I took some time for myself; away from all of it to soothe my spirit and relax my body. I muted the phone and flicked radio off.
Nothing was going to stop me from finding peaceful moments in my day.
Not even that scary Hoffstadt Bridge.
As soon as you leave Toutle, and enter the mountainous area, you can physically feel/smell a different atmosphere – cooler, clearer fresher air; the environment is invigorating to the senses. Your whole being comes alive as your senses pick up on the crispness of the air and the clean smell of the fresh water.
It just really lifts your spirit up.
It’s taken me a loooong time to feel this calmness in this particular place, after the 1980 eruption. It was a dead zone for a couple years – as lifeless and barren as a lunar landscape. Even when animals and plants started showing up to add life to the gray landscape, I never felt comfortable there.
Bob always felt comfortable in this particular region. Bob had history in this corner of the world. I visited it again, for the first time Solo Lobo, in the Fall of 2019 – nine months into widowhood: I did it as a dare to myself. I did it because I knew there was some lingering essence of Bob remaining in that region. I did it because I wanted to know what the {draw} had been for my husband. I know what drew him back time and time again before the eruption … and I spent a lot of time with Bob, on the mountain, while we dated and after our daughter was born (between Spring of 1984 and Summer of 1980). But after May 1980 forever changed the region, I never understood the fascination. I’ve never had a long-lasting love affair with Mt. St. Helens as I have with Mt. Rainer.
Mt. St. Helens was Bob’s mountain. It was under his skin.
I visit the region at least once a year now. And I’m learning to be comfortable there. I can honestly state that visiting that region has been a healing comfort to my spirit following my husband’s physical death: there are memories of Bob, there. Going back is also a growing and strengthening experience as it stretches me to go beyond what I experienced last time I visited.
I still hate driving over the Hoffstadt Bridge … but I am doing it; that is a major accomplishment. I have done things in that region, that I never did with Bob – there is a bittersweet achievement in those capabilities.
And it’s closer to home. With soaring gas prices that don’t appear to be slowing down any time soon, staying local is a plus when the need to escape prods me into action.
Mt. St. Helen’s Visitor Center:(https://www.parks.wa.gov/245/Mount-St-Helens)
Leaving the Visitor’s Center past Hofstatt Bridge, and crossing over Bear Creek, you’re in bear country – actually, all of this area is bear country; but the bridge over the creek literally advertises bear country.
When I see remnants of old logging sites (and the Red Zone area) that are slowly being reclaimed by wilderness & forest, again, I think of Bob logging both areas. So, some essence of Bob still lingers here. And I’m pretty sure he’s still keeping this area in his visitation itinerary during his cloud ride flyby’s š There’s no doubt about that: Bob loved this mountain. I’ll always consider this mountain as “Bob’s Mountain”.
Mt. St. Helen’s Memorial Highway:(https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/giffordpinchot/recarea/?recid=66100)
Driving along, I saw a lake off to the side of Mt. St. Helens flank – and a National Park Placard advertising ‘Castle Lake’ … so I turned into the viewpoint parking lot.
Saturday was not a good day to view the mountain, but any day can be a crap shoot when visiting mountains: mountains make their own weather, and it can change several times in one day depending on the mountain’s whims. Saturday, the lady in question was moody.
This would be a new experience. I’d never been to this spot with Bob. But I knew the name of the lake because Bob talked about it: the logging company Bob had been working for since graduating High School had gotten one of the first salvage logging contracts after the 1980 eruption. Bob was stoked, and he would tell me about the “new lakes” that had been created by the massive eruption that seriously changed the landscape around the mountain-volcano. Castle Lake was one of those new creations. There were others, too, and Bob said that they all were different colors due to the mineral sediments caused by the blast.
I was curious.
Of course, I couldn’t see it up close and personal like Bob did – but I could see where it lay. And I could remember Bob telling me about it.
Reining my thoughts in, and getting back on track of why I made the drive; I continued down the road and around the bend, to the Hummocks Trail Parking Lot.
The trail is a short one – a loop trail about 2½ miles total; and about an hour to complete – but I always arrive too late in the day to do the total loop hike. I didn’t leave the house Saturday morning until 11:34 … and I always dink around enroute, so my actual destination activities are always curtailed to specific moments. Saturday’s trail moment was {get there-walk to the Boundary Trail Marker-gawk for a few minutes-backtrack to the car}; pretty cut and dried as far as activity goes.
That said, it’s still a nice short hike š
I’d be outside in nature, soaking up the scenery and listening to vociferous creatures that inhabit the area. That alone, in MHO, is worth the loooong drive š
The hummocks are gigantic refuse debris dumps, scattered over the landscape around Mt. St. Helens, following her awe-inspiring 1980 temper tantrum. I don’t “get” the scientific goose-bumps some get from them … but I do enjoy the hike; I walked it for the first time in April of last year, so I’m familiar with the trail layout now – I was still mindful of where my feet put down, but I was able to walk a little brisker this year – being careful on the steep loose gravel section of the trail (65-year-old bodies don’t bounce/heal like youthful 20-30 year-old bodies š).
The air of the Hummocks Trail was very pungent with rain-scent, wet dirt, blooming flowers, & new-growth greenery – but my lungs never seized up.
I took my time enjoying the environment, and spent soaking up the natural vibes and taking into my spirit the peacefulness of the moment: I spent an hour on this short section of the trail, doing nothing more than just looking around.
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Back in the Highlander, and aiming it up the winding road towards Johnson’s Ridge Observatory, I was treated to three different weather patterns.
Johnson’s Ridge is 6½ miles from the Hummock’s Trail; and between both places, you pass into another County (Skamania). 3,000 feet in elevation; pretty little waterfalls along the roadway … but nowhere to pull over and take a picture. They aren’t big waterfalls, but they are cute – and add sparkle to the landscape.
While walking that loop, I decided to make a side trip. It didn’t look too taxing, physically; so, I didn’t worry about not having my walking stick with me.
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Next time, I will carry my walking stick with me. Things can change in a nano-second on a trail; even if the trail is not a challenging trail. My snafu happened because of a loose pebble.
1 loose pebble led to a turned ankle – which immediately inflamed that temperamental piriformis muscle. Getting back to the car was not as scary as it sounds … the drive home, with the piriformis tweak, would be the true test. That was what concerned me: there is no shotgun driver to takeover driving, in my current life.
I don’t think my walking stick would have stopped the turning of the ankle snafu; but it would have eased some of the piriformis strain while pampering my ankle.
And I did have a few sightings of snow that that made my eyes happy, and aided in mental distraction as I hobbled along š
Coldwater Lake:(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coldwater_Lake_(Washington))
My ankle was in a little pain, but it wasn’t crippling … and I figured that if I could walk from where I turned it on the trail to where the car was parked (about half an hour careful walking), that was a good sign that I hadn’t seriously injured it. I’d just hole up at home when I got back home, gently use that foot over the next 24 hours; and slap a pain-relieving patch on the inflamed piriformis muscle until it settled down.
By the time I headed home, I had spent 6 hours on the mountain, and experienced two new things – and I had done a lot more walking than anticipated when I woke up with walking in my thoughts š
Hopefully by Monday or Tuesday, the ankle burn and muscle seize will back off; and I’d be back in business on my feet š
**Mt. St. Helens Daytrips over the past 3 years/Links:
Sunday~Funday2 – Solo Daytrip up Toutle to Mt. St. Helens Gift Shop/9-1-19: https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/09/sunday-funday-2.html
Mt. St. Helens Daytrip w-Trudy & Ed/8-4-20: https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/08/daytrip-w-trudy-ed-mt-st-helens.html
A Walk In The Clouds Post/4-16-21 (I was wearing a yellow top then, too š): https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2021/04/a-walk-in-clouds.html
Loowit Viewpoint Post/9-8-21: https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2021/09/loowit-viewpoint.html **
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